


Color

by littlemaple



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: A little bit of angst cuz why not, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-03-15 05:39:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13606716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemaple/pseuds/littlemaple
Summary: Arthur needed Alfred, but Alfred did not need him. Still, there was something Alfred wanted from him.





	1. Colors

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago and posted on my nsfw tumblr and decided to post this here as well cuz eh, why not. Reviews and stuff are always welcome! ;)

Alfred was his mate. He was Alfred’s. Alfred wasn’t his, though, and he was hardly around. Arthur hated how much his body needed Alfred, how much it called for him, for his touch, for anything his.

That was why his body shivered when Alfred entered the room, filling it with his scent, and that was why his mark throbbed in anxiety, making his body hot, needy.

He needed Alfred.

Alfred didn’t need him. But Alfred liked him, his body at least, so he kept coming, from time to time.

“Aw, it’s not your heat yet. That’s too bad…” he said, rolling his eyes, ready to leave.

Arthur was already hard, eyes wet.

“P-please…” he whimpered, and he hated how much his body would take over and make him say stuff like that. He hated to beg for Alfred. He hated how they were mates but not anything else. He hated to need Alfred. He hated to see the way Alfred’s eyes sparkled with arousal to have Arthur begging for him.

He hated how he knew Alfred did it on purpose, so Arthur would beg.

He stared at Arthur and Arthur tried to stare back, but Alfred was a strong alpha and Arthur couldn’t bear his gaze, so he looked down. He felt exposed, almost embarrassed, as if that hadn’t happened way too many times already.

The room was barely lit with a weak white light, and everything there was entirely devoid of color. It was all just white. The walls were white. The bed was white. The armchair was white. The tablet with thousands of books and articles… also white. The movies on the television on the wall were colorful, at least. Arthur had access to it if he begged enough; usually he was too proud, but from time to time he couldn’t take it anymore and he’d beg and cry and Alfred would give it to him. The towels were also white. And so were the toilet and the bathtub. He didn’t have clothes because he never left the room. But when he did his clothes would be white, too.

So Alfred’s presence… Arthur loved his deep, dark blue eyes. They were so full of… something. Arthur wouldn’t say life or happiness or joy – but it was something. And Arthur loved it. They were so colorful.

“Stand up.” Alfred demanded, and Arthur did just that. He stood up by the bed, staring at Alfred. Alfred gestured towards the wall, so Arthur moved that direction. “Give me your hand.”

Arthur offered him his hand and Alfred took a bottle of lube from his pocket. He opened it and let a generous amount fall on Arthur’s hand.

“Do it.”

So Arthur did. He used his left arm against the wall as support and rested his head against his arm as he spread his legs, pressing his lube-filled fingers against his entrance. He gulped and closed his eyes as he penetrated himself, his body shivering in excitement from knowing Alfred was watching him, from feeling his pheromones drowning him in arousal.

Then Alfred was pressing himself against Arthur, his breathing hot against his skin, his lips almost touching the mark in Arthur’s neck, but not giving him the satisfaction.

Arthur moaned. Then he felt Alfred’s hot, welcome hand touching his belly and coming up, slowly, almost torturing him in how slow it was. It touched one of Arthur’s nipples and almost chocked him as it passed by his neck, and then it stopped by his mouth. Alfred pressed two of his fingers to Arthur’s lips and he gladly opened his mouth, involving Alfred’s fingers with his tongue, sucking them, moaning, enjoying their warmth and taste.

At that point Arthur was already stroking himself with his fingers, as hard as he could, and Alfred stopped him.

Arthur gulped when he heard Alfred unbuttoning his pants, and not soon enough he felt Alfred pressing himself against Arthur’s entrance.

“Say it.” Alfred demanded.

Arthur moaned in protest, and Alfred pressed his fingers deep into his mouth.

“… Please.”

The word was muffled and saliva fell down his chin, but it seemed enough. Alfred was inside him, and he was moaning, pressing his tongue between Alfred’s fingers, spreading his legs even farther and closing his eyes as Alfred moved, fast, deep, so fast and so deep and so good.

The hand tight against his waist hurt but it was good and it would leave a purple mark and Arthur loved it – because it’d add some color in his life for a little while.

When he came his cum stained the wall and he almost bit Alfred’s fingers.

Then Alfred kissed his neck and he felt like his legs would give up, but they didn’t. Alfred kept going for a while, grunting and moaning quietly. Then he came, filling Arthur. He removed himself from him, and Arthur fell down, sitting on his knees and panting, eyes unable to focus, body too filled with pheromones to care about anything.

“You were good today. No complaining. You must be bored.” Alfred said, picking him up like he didn’t weight anything. Arthur didn’t say anything, but rested his head against Alfred’s shoulder, sniffing his scent and looking at his navy-blue outfit.

Alfred placed him on the bed and Arthur stared at his eyes while he was hovering there. Such blue eyes. Such a gorgeous color.

When Alfred was leaving Arthur tugged at his uniform.

“I love you.” Arthur said. He didn’t even care. He felt lonely. Alfred was the most color he ever had. He wanted more of it.

“Don’t worry, your heat’s coming soon.” Alfred answered as if reading his mind.

Arthur wished he’d smile but he just left.


	2. True Colors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be an oneshot, but here's a second chapter.  
> Enjoy ;3

 

Arthur woke up with Alfred’s scent. He turned in bed and almost gasped when he saw a dark figure standing near to his bed, but knowing it was Alfred made him relax. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what to say, or even if he should say anything — Alfred always came during daytime he always went straight to the point, and he always left.

Except in heats. In heats he stayed more, he’d even take a nap with Arthur sometimes. But it wasn’t his heat. His heat had taken place a couple of weeks previous, so he didn’t know what Alfred was doing there, or what he wanted.

So he just stared. Alfred moved, then, and Arthur quickly looked away. Alfred removed his jacket, letting it fall to the floor, then climbed on the bed.

Arthur looked at him and their eyes met for a second more before Alfred leaned down and kissed Arthur’s neck. Arthur moaned quietly, then louder when Alfred’s warm hand ran down his sides, making its way to Arthur’s ass and feeling him up.

With his eyes closed and enjoying the warmth and smell of his mate, Arthur didn’t even notice when Alfred opened the lube, but he felt when fingers pressed inside of him. He quickly parted his legs and wrapped them around Alfred, his breathing faster in anticipation.

Alfred scissored his fingers inside of Arthur and he moaned, a hand reaching for his own cock to stroke it while the other ruffled Alfred’s hair.

Alfred bit and licked his neck, leaving hickeys all over his pale skin, and Arthur squirmed under Alfred, feeling his body react right away to being scented by his mate. To his surprise, Alfred wrapped a hand around his cock and helped him touch himself, moving fast and tight and Arthur came in no time.

His body relaxed, and he closed his eyes for a moment. The mattress was comfortable under him, and Alfred was warm and heavy on top of him, and he felt sleepy.

“C’mon, don’t fall asleep on me,” Alfred asked, biting his neck still and moving his fingers again. Arthur moaned when they touched a sweet spot, and he moved his hips lazily, his eyes still closed, a faint smile on his lips.

Alfred then inserted a third finger, moving them slowly at first, but faster as Arthur started moaning louder. He kept a steady rhythm and in no time Arthur was holding tight to the sheets and calling for Alfred, wanting him inside, wanting more of him.

There was a whine from Arthur’s part as Alfred removed his fingers and unzipped his pants, but then gasps and soft pleasured pants as Alfred pushed his way inside.

As he moved, Arthur pressed his lips together and moaned, moving his hips and closing his eyes as Alfred’s scent intoxicated him, made him feel filled, complete, happy, even.

He loved being with Alfred. He loved to have Alfred so deeply inside him, because it felt so intimate, so pure, so… it almost felt like Alfred loved him. So he moaned, he called Alfred’s name and he reached for his shoulders, pulling Alfred closer, making him press his nose and lips against his neck. Alfred moved faster, then reached for Arthur’s cock again. Arthur knew Alfred was only doing it so Arthur’s cum wouldn’t stain his clothes, but still… having Alfred inside him and touching him and breathing against his neck was heavenly, and Arthur loved it.

Then Alfred came with a loud and heavy grunt, and Arthur came right after because Alfred’s voice was too sexy to resist, and then it was over.

Alfred stood up, fixing his clothes. Arthur watched him, still panting a bit, wanting him to stay, thinking whether he should ask, beg for him to stay.

“You’re infertile,” Alfred said suddenly.

Arthur froze.

“... what?”

There was a pause.

“You’re infertile,” Alfred said again, “Just… all these heats, and nothing…”

Arthur felt his body tense. That couldn’t be happening. He felt his body shaking, his heart desperate.

“I did some tests,” Alfred went on, “and the problem is not me.”

“But I… they did tests too, before… I can’t be…” Arthur said in a whisper. No.

Who knew what they did with useless infertile omegas? Arthur didn’t want to find out. But he didn’t know what he could do, either. Sometimes even if he begged and cried Alfred wouldn’t let him access the television; what assurance had he that Alfred would keep him if he begged now?

But he would beg anyway. It was everything he had in his power, and he’d hold to it, he wouldn’t give up like that.

He opened his mouth, but Alfred moved around in the room, checking something on his watch. It was blinking, but Arthur didn’t know what it meant. Alfred turned to him with pursed lips and didn’t even look in his eyes as he picked up his jacket and tossed it in Arthur’s way.

“Put it on,” he said.”

“What?”

“Now.”

Arthur put the jacket on. It was navy-blue, big and warm and it smelled like Alfred. But Arthur hadn’t wore a piece of clothing in a long time, and it felt weird on him.

Alfred grabbed his wrist then.

“Come.”

“W-what? Where? I can’t leave the…”

“ _Now_ , Arthur.”

Arthur followed him, a throbbing sense of dread echoing inside of him with every step he took. Where were they going? Why were they going somewhere, to begin with?

… Was Alfred going to get rid of Arthur? It was the only explanation. If he was infertile, he was useless, and if he was useless, Alfred could give him away and get another omega.

Arthur’s breathing got faster with that. He needed Alfred. He loved Alfred. They were mates.

He closed the jacket with his free hand, hugging himself as best as he could while Alfred held his wrist and made they walk fast through large and endless halls. Or maybe they just seemed endless to Arthur, who hadn’t left his room in so long.

He could feel cum between his legs and the cold metal below his bare feet as they walked. He was feeling so weak, so vulnerable. So useless. There were some posters or windows or warnings on the walls, and they were colorful and new, and in any other day he would’ve loved to look at them, but now he could only try to contain the tears in his eyes.

Alfred would get rid of him.

Alfred would throw him away.

Alfred didn’t need him anymore.

Alfred didn’t care for him.

He never did.

And it hurt.

Arthur sobbed. He didn’t care. He felt miserable. He was tired. He had grown up with people telling him he was lucky he was an omega, that he could be selected to go and have an easy, fulfilling life with the Explorers as everyone else stayed on a dying Earth. And he had been a fool and he had been an idiot to believe that — not that he had many options; there wasn’t much on Earth anymore, and it was dangerous there. And he had passed all the tests, and Alfred had seen him and picked him and brought him to his ship. And he had given Arthur gifts (thousands of books and nice food and nice bath salts) and he had kissed his hand before their first heat together, and they had mated, but it had never meant anything to Alfred, had it?

Arthur was just his omega. His thing to play with after he was done with looking for new planets for the day. And now they probably had came across another ship and Alfred would just throw Arthur away and get something better in return.

So Arthur sobbed, loud and tired and drained because his mate didn’t love him and it physically hurt.

“Why are you crying?” Alfred asked in what seemed to be confusion, as if he couldn’t understand, which was just ridiculous.

“Forgive me for having feelings!” Arthur snapped back; it surprised himself, but god… he was so, so tired of that, of being used, of being ignored when he was not necessary anymore. It was far from a fulfilling life.

“What?”

“I’m—you’re going to… you’re going to throw me away because I can’t give you a child and you don’t even want me to be upset about it?” Arthur said, trying to sound angry but failing.

“What the—” Alfred started, but stopped. He tensed up and stared ahead, as if listening for something.

“What is—”

“Shh!”

There were footsteps in a nearby hallway.

“They must’ve heard you,” Alfred glared. Arthur looked down, feeling guilty, but he was also confused. Who were they? What was happening?

There was a sense of urge and anxiety in Alfred’s scent, and it was making Arthur anxious as well.

“W-who are—”

“Shh!” Alfred said again, grabbing his wrist and guiding him back the way they came. Then he whispered, “Invaders. They’re after our supplies. Just last week they attacked another ship… they took all the omegas aboard, too.”

So omegas _were_ supplies.

Arthur felt anger, fear, loathing, sadness, all at once.

“So you’re just… you’re going to give me to them? Because I’m infertile?” he asked, “Or are you going to use me as bait? Throw me to them and attack as they are distracted?” he asked, offended.

Alfred blinked.

“What? _No_ , I’m going to hide you in my room. What the…” he stopped to check something on his watch. It was blinking again, and Arthur stood there, confused.

Alfred was… what?

He took Arthur’s wrist again and guided him by new hallways, always checking on his watch here and there. Then, after what seemed like forever, he used his watch to unlock a door and hurried Arthur inside.

The room was a mess.

There were messy sheets and a messy desk and messy containers of food and clothes on the floor and everything was so colorful — blue and red and purple and green — and everything smelled so much like Alfred.

Alfred’s room. Arthur never even dreamt about seeing it.

“Stay here,” Alfred ordered, “There’s food and water in the minibar near the bed. I’ll be back soon.”

“Wait,” Arthur grabbed his arm, “I don’t… you said that I was…”

“Just because you may be infertile it doesn’t mean I’m giving you up. You’re mine,” he touched Arthur’s cheek for a second, “Just stay here and don’t be noisy.”

Arthur felt himself melting with that. With the possibility of Alfred caring, loving him, even.

“... I love you,” Arthur said, gulping.

“I won’t be long,” Alfred said.

Then he smiled and left.  



End file.
